Nellis: Bank Robbery
by MidoriEyes
Summary: Just a normal trip to the bank for Nick and Ellis... until some jerks come along and decide to rob it. Danger, violence, romance... what's not to love?  rated M for smutty ending
1. Part 1

**AN:  A short, three part fic about a trip to the bank w/ Nick and Ellis… oh, and there's some douche bags who try to rob the place, or whatever. :T**

**Rating: M - for hardcore smut in the epilogue (part 4). You've been warned!**

Nick sighed for the umpteenth time during the hour he and his partner were standing in that ungodly long line at their local bank. All he had to do was make a simple check deposit, but, of course when it came to money and Nick, life was never that easy.

He looked at his Rolex and was irritated to find that the minute hand had only moved two tick marks since he last checked it. "Can these people be any fucking _slower?_ I'm gonna be seven feet under by the time we get up there!"

A steady hand pressed against his shoulder in an attempt to calm the man. "Nick, everyone else is waitin' in line, too. Just be patient," Ellis soothed, but the gesture didn't seem to quell his lover's frustration in the least.

"I've been patient for forty-five minutes now, and we've only moved five steps since then. You'd think they'd OPEN UP MORE LANES with how many people are here, but I GUESS THEY'RE JUST GONNA LET US ROT UNTIL OUR ACCOUNTS RUN DRY." Nick purposely spoke loud enough for the employees up front to hear his sentiments, but all it served to do what earn him a few nasty glances from the customers in front of him. Quite frankly, though, he didn't give a fuck about what they thought of him.

"Jeez, Nick," Ellis hissed in a harsh whisper, "do ya have to bitch about it for the whole world to hear?"

"Why shouldn't I? This whole thing is a bunch of bullshit. I feel like I'm waiting in line for a fucking carnival ride; 'Wait time from this point: Fifty years'."

Ellis laughed and nudged the conman in his shoulder. "It ain't that bad. But yeah, a world without lines would be purdy great, would'n it? Hey! Remember that time we was runnin' fer our lives on the Screamin' Oak with Coach and Ro?"

"Oh boy, you have to bring that up? I'll never see clowns the same way again…"

"That was _so_ awesome! I was afraid I would'n be able to ride anymore coasters again after that."

"Why? From what I remember, you actually looked like you were having fun."

"Well, it was them zombies, man! They were blowin' chunks all over the place, and it done near upset my own stomach seein' all that puke on a coaster."

Nick chuckled. "I'm sure it wasn't any different than that time when you and Keith filled yourselves up with chilli cheese dogs and road the Whirly Bird back in high school."

The younger man flashed him a smile. "I'm surprised you remember that story!"

"If I recall, they renamed it the 'Hurly Bird' after that?"

"Ha ha! Sure did!"

Nick's mood had considerably lightened by taking his mind off of the issue at hand, but when the line barely moved one more step towards the counters, his previous scowl had returned much to Ellis' dismay.

"I don't think we're ever gonna get out of here."

The mechanic snorted in amusement and allowed their arms to touch. "Well, at least I'm here to keep ya company, right?"

Nick turned his head to look down into his companion's baby blue eyes, full of the same sincerity he'd grown fond of in the first few months they'd traveled together. The feelings they aroused within the gambler hadn't changed one bit since their vision of living in the same house had become something tangible. It was amazing how an apocalypse full of flesh-eating zombies and one trouble-making hick could change a man.

The corner of Nick's mouth pulled up in an involuntary smirk, his lips parting to say something witty in response to the younger man's comforting words…

"EVERYBODY, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

All the customer's heads whipped around at once towards the entrance of the bank where three men clad in hooded sweatshirts and dark pants came barging in through the glass doors, each adorning a black ski mask that merely showed their mouth and eyes. If their appearance and crude outburst wasn't enough of a hint of their intentions, the pistols in their hands certainly clarified it for everyone.

"I SAID **NOW!** GET ON YOUR KNEES WITH YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD, PEOPLE!" The first robber, the one who seemed to be the head honcho of the trio, shouted out commands left and right while waving his gun around with one hand, and the other defensively poised at his side in case a particularly idiotic customer tried to do something stupid before their whole operation was in full swing. The second and third robber went around pointing their weapons at people who hesitated in following orders, although it didn't take much for all men and women to do as they were told and drop to their knees in submission.

Ellis felt his heart clench in an icy grip once he realized what was going on. The whole setup was like something from a movie he'd seen with his buddies, and for a second he wasn't sure if this was actually happening or not. Unfortunately, the panic that came in the form of high pitched screams and alarmed gasps from the other people around him made the situation more real than he'd like it to be. After the infection, however, the boy's resolve had hardened significantly and there wasn't much that was able to shake him anymore, so he stood grounded to where he was, muscles tense and forcing him into a ready stance. Ready for what? He wasn't sure just yet.

On the other hand, his partner looked as if his feathers had barely been ruffled. Nick's hands were still loosely shoved in his pockets, posture slack and relaxed, unlike everyone else in the facility. He reacted to the intruders' presence almost like they were just another group of customers, until the glocks came into view. The gambler's sharp eyes studied their unexpected guests carefully, absorbing every feature of their plain attire and abrupt movements.

The three men had a thin pair of gloves on each hand, no doubt to eliminate any potential fingerprints, and the soles of their shoes had been rubbed raw to where any design or brand name that used to be there was now completely gone; yet another way of narrowing down a person's identity. The sweaters they all wore were made of the standard thick cotton fabric, which was the wiser choice if one didn't want to leave too many fibers lying around after a heist. It was hard to tell whether the ski masks were of the same material, or fleece, but it didn't really matter either way.

According to Nick's quick analysis of the robbers, they had probably done this before, maybe two or three times. But, judging by the voices, they were younger, at least more so than the conman himself, which wasn't a very good combination in his opinion. Young and inexperienced was dangerous enough, because that meant they might be prone to making hasty decisions or mistakes that could ultimately get innocent people killed. Being young and experienced, though, would mean they've had time to learn from their screw ups and harden their hearts against whatever crazy stunts they pull. For instance, killing innocent people may feel like nothing to them by now; as easy or as common as brushing their teeth when they wake up in the morning.

This assumption was soon confirmed once he saw the smallest robber shoot a security guard that had appeared in one of the doorways on the adjacent side of the counters. The balding man was jerked backwards by the bullet's impact, and he slid down against the wall with a fresh hole marking the breast of his white uniform shirt. The shot was most assuredly fatal.

"Anyone else? Huh?" The first robber held out his arms as if asking for a challenge to present themselves if they dared. No one made a move, of course, albeit those who were trembling with fear. "If any one of you try something funny with us, you'll end up like that guy, got it?"

The third robber, who had done little more than help threaten everyone with his pistol at this point in time, spotted the two men who were still standing as opposed to the rest of the hostages who were at their mercy. He came up to Nick and Ellis in a few long strides with the intent to harm if necessary. "Hey! Are you guys deaf? We said GET ON YOUR KNEES." He raised his gun and aimed it at the chest closest to him.

Ellis' hand latched onto Nick's arm, dread shooting into his system like liquid adrenaline at the deadly weapon targeting his lover. He didn't want to make any other sudden movements though, afraid that the felon would automatically pull the trigger if provoked.

In this case, the mechanic may or may not have been correct. Now that Nick got a better look at this particular robber, he saw the faint quaking in his gloved hand as he held the gun. His voice sounded younger, too, maybe mid-twenties or so, like Ellis. The brave front he put up when approaching the two survivors was pretty convincing to anyone else, but for a card shark like Nick, that ski mask didn't make for a good enough poker face.

The conman's eyes went from the glock and back to his captor's face before speaking to him in a low, flat tone that wouldn't make the robber any more jittery than he already was. "You're new at this, aren'tcha? I can tell."

The kid didn't respond, but tried being more assertive by tightening the hold he had on his weapon and rocking from foot to foot, like a baseball player who was getting ready for a hit.

"You ever shot a man before? Ooh, it's something..."

Ellis dug his fingers into the gambler's arm and whispered his name in a warning tone, but was promptly ignored. Nick knew how to break down barriers, and if he could do that with at least one of these goons, then maybe he and everyone else could have a better chance at obtaining the upper hand.

"Having the power to wipe out a life in the two seconds it takes for you to wipe your own nose; it's no wonder everyone went all trigger-happy after the whole zombie fiasco. I'm guessing guys like you didn't wanna give up that control, huh? I know how ya feel. But kid, this ain't the way to do it, and I think you know that."

"Shut up, man, before I blow your fuckin' face in!" Something was getting through to the young criminal, but it didn't warrant any promise of sticking since the glock was still positioned at Nick's chest.

"Take it from someone who's been on both sides of that gun, kid. You're not gonna shoot me, or anyone else in here. Trust me, you don't want to." The persuasive cop routine wasn't something anyone could pull off, but Nick did a surprisingly good job of it.

"If he won't, then I will."

A second gun trained itself on Nick's head by the first robber who had been barking orders. In suppressed hysteria, Ellis took a step in front of his partner with a yell before the man could even think of firing off his glock. It was different when a mindless zombie was coming after them; the boy didn't have to worry as often about his friends being mortally wounded or killed. But an uninfected, able bodied human being with a one-hit-wonder weapon was by far scarier than all the Specials put together, at least for the mechanic.

"_Ellis…_" It was Nick's turn to issue the warning tone. He quickly moved to be side by side with his companion once more, his heart skipping a beat at the younger man's rash decision to shield him from possible fire. All three criminals simply stared at the men like they were crazy.

Robber #1 let out a condescending laugh. "What are you, a faggot? Get on your fucking knees, _now_, before I plant a bullet in both of your sorry skulls."

A lot of the customers were watching the scene play out before them, half expecting there to be more blood shed, and half not caring either way as long as they weren't the ones dead by the end of the day. Now that Nick's one-on-one time with the youngest criminal had expired and the head honcho had gotten involved, it'd be too risky to keep pushing their buttons like he'd been doing. With quiet resolve, Nick laid a hand on his partner's shoulder, lowered both of them to their knees, and put his hands behind his head, following suit like the rest of the hostages.

"That's more like it. Another word outta you, Mr. Big Shot, and next time I won't be so forgiving." Robber #1 went back to the smallest accomplice who had shot the security guard on the other side of the room and relayed some orders to him as if it was business as usual. The younger member of their trio backed up a few paces, but kept his weapon on the two survivors, still mulling over what the smartly dressed hostage had said to him.

Since these guys' time was limited, because there was no way some kind of silent alarm hadn't been triggered by now, they quickly got to work by making demands of the employees behind the counter, their glocks posing as effective incentives during their hustling. One of the workers, a distressed African-American woman with frizzy hair and fake pink nails, wasn't going fast enough for their liking, and who could blame her when she had the barrel of a gun staring her down the entire time? This problem was remedied by even more shouting on robber #1's part.

"C'mon, people, we ain't got all day obviously! I know one of you tripped an alarm, and if I find out who did it…"

That was all the encouragement they needed to get a move on.

The second robber's eyes twitched as he scrutinized the situation with gun at the ready, and although he didn't come off as nervous like the younger one, his restless demeanor suggested that he was rather anxious in a sinister sort of way. He might've been a druggie for all anyone knew, since the symptoms he was displaying weren't far from that of a hardcore coke user. Nick figured this guy would be the one they should really be wary of besides their leader.

The conman's eyes followed the smaller criminal and watched as he started speaking in Spanish to one of the hostages who had tried reaching into her purse, most likely for a cellphone or something of value. The chubby hispanic woman immediately retrieved her hand and began mumbling a panicked apology as he threatened her. Ellis leaned back to peer over his lover's shoulder and see what the commotion was. While the shooting of the bank's security guard had rattled him, he really hoped these men wouldn't hurt the women or children. Who knew what kind of charges they had on their criminal records besides being thieves and murderers?

The mechanic swallowed and made certain that the robbers' attention were directed elsewhere before speaking to his companion in a hushed voice. "This don't look good, Nick."

The older man kept himself relatively still while answering Ellis' concern. "They've done this before."

"What? How can ya tell?"

"Because I've been in their shoes, El. I have my own impressive rap sheet, remember? Didn't exactly rob a bank, but I've done my fair share of taking things that don't belong to me."

Ellis knew about most of his lover's past… actions, but all wrong doings had pretty much been forgiven after the apocalypse happened. Sure, he still conned people at the gambling tables, but it wasn't like he went around illegally toting a weapon and getting involved with the crowds he used to finagle with in the underground.

"Hey! I said, hands on your head!" Robber #1 waved his glock at one of the elderly hostages whose arms had gotten tired from being held up for so long.

Ellis was briefly distracted by this event before continuing his dialogue with Nick. "What d'ya think their gonna do after they get their money?" He figured the ex-criminal might know a thing or two about the felons' general plan since he was so perceptive in everything he said and did.

"My guess? They're gonna take the doe n' go before any cops show up, probably out the emergency exit in the back…" Nick glanced at the dead security guard slumped over against the wall. "I wouldn't put it past these guys to take out a couple more hostages, though, especially 'Twitchy' over there." He jerked his head in the direction of the smaller robber, whose fingers danced over the handle of his gun.

"Think we could take'em?" Ellis wasn't really planning on fighting these guys off, but it was a harmless question nonetheless.

"Oh, hell yeah, if they weren't armed and trigger-happy. These guys don't even make my list compared to all the Tanks we fought..."

"Yo! You want us to tell you again, old man?" "Twitchy" had caught them whispering and started making his way over. Ellis seized up and gave his partner a pleading look that said not to talk back, but since when did Nick ever take crap from scumbags like them?

"I don't remember you saying I had the right to remain silent," the conman shot back like the cocky bastard he was.

"How 'bout I silence you myself?" The masked man growled in a heavy Spanish accent.

"Hey!" The lead Robber addressed his cohort in a stern tone. "Not now. We gotta get this shit together and blow outta here."

"You heard the man." Nick couldn't help but let a smirk creep it's way onto his features.

"Twitchy" was seething on the inside, but his pent up anger would just have to be put on hold for now. He left to go assist his team, but not before spitting at the ground in front of Nick's knees. It was a lucky thing that the wad of saliva hadn't landed on the gambler's pant leg, for "Twitchy's" sake.

Instead of verbally chiding the older man like he'd normally do, Ellis sent a glare his way, which was as good a warning message as any. Nick had often been told by people he knew back in the day that his smart mouth was going to be the death of him rather than a enemy's bullet. Truthfully, he didn't much care as long as he got the last word in edgewise.

The two survivors didn't say anything for a while and simply listened to the sounds of fresh dollar bills being stuffed into the large backpacks the criminals had brought with them that were normally meant for hiking or camping. They must've forced one of the employees to open their vault in the back, because the clinking of jewelry and other valuables could be heard as well. During the heavy silence, Nick and Ellis could hear other noises emanating from all the hostages around them. The elderly woman from before was whimpering in fear despite her husband's efforts in trying to calm her, but he didn't look so hopeful either. A little girl who was being held close to her mother's abdomen with one arm tried asking questions about who the men were and what they were doing, in which she was quickly shushed by her parent while being stroked along her light blonde hair.

Nick spotted a conservatively dressed woman on his left who was praying over a set of rosary beads hanging around her neck. A lot of good that would do her now, is what he thought. If they should be asking God anything, it'd be why the hell this had to happen on the one rare occasion he and Ellis came to the local bank?

"Seriously. What the fuck, God?" he muttered.

_To be continued..._


	2. Part 2

**AN:  A short, three part fic about a trip to the bank w/ Nick and Ellis… oh, and there's some douche bags who try to rob the place, or whatever. :T**

**Rating: M - for hardcore smut in the epilogue (part 4). You've been warned!**

By this time, the felons had filled their bags with cash up to the breaking point and were just about ready to make their getaway.

"Okay, that's good, boys. We gotta split."

The leader zipped up all the pockets of his bag in a few practiced motions, and strapped it to his back like a student would. This was super efficient if one wanted to keep both his hands free while blowing a joint. The youngest robber did the same and got "Twitchy's" pack ready as well since the Hispanic was currently keeping watch over their hostages.

"Alright, now all of you…" he gestured to the bank employees behind the counter, "come out from behind there, hands behind your head, and join everyone else on the floor." The employees did as they were told without argument, carefully filing out one by one from behind their workstation and getting on their knees in front of their captors where they could see them.

Nick and Ellis peeked over their shoulders to see what would happen next.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your _kind_ donations. It's not often we find such generosity in today's world, am I right?" Robber #1's theatrics were going to cost them the precious time they so desired, but he had the money and the upper hand, so what harm could a little gloating do? "Please let it be known that if any of you so much as try to scratch your crotch before we go, you will be put down by yours truly."

None of the people really seemed to care about his threats by now. They were leaving! Finally, they could all go home to their family and friends, wake up the next morning, and dismiss this awful experience as a simple bad dream. Sure, the criminals might possibly escape and never be found, but it was a small price compared to losing their lives. During the leader's conclusory speech, Ellis was wondering why he hadn't hear the wail of sirens in the distance already.

"Shouldn't the cops've been here by now?" he asked Nick.

"Depends. In all likelihood, a silent alarm should have been tripped, but we won't be able to know for sure unless someone says so."

The mechanic snorted. "I doubt anybody's gonna come clean about that."

"I wouldn't either," his partner admitted.

Robber #1 waited until their younger team mate threw one of the backpacks to "Twitchy" before they starting making their exit. "Hope to see you all again real soon." He gave his audience a cynical grin and directed his cohorts to the door opposite the bank entrance, as expected, where they would slip out the back.

Just as Ellis and all the other hostages were about to let out a sigh of relief, a black figure shot up from the kneeling crowd and alerted the robbers of his presence.

"HEY!"

All eyes were on a middle-aged man with salt and pepper grey hair who had stood up somewhere in the middle of all the other hostages. He was dressed in a dark pinstriped suit and had the air of a rather wealthy entrepreneur, but the small handgun he was pointing at the fleeing criminals made him look more like he belonged to the Mafia instead of your average business corporation. The man seemed pretty nervous even while wielding a weapon, though, so Nick didn't peg him for the gangster type. If this guy was as loaded as he appeared, then it wasn't much of a mystery why he carried a gun around for protection.

Robber #1 turned and looked their opponent up and down before chuckling to himself. "Wow, look at this! A good samaritan? Haven't encountered one of these before. I thought this was a job for the boys in blue?"

"You… you have no idea who you're messing with!" The business man said, his voice tight and wavering. He had to get a better grip on the gun in his hand due to how much his palms were sweating.

"Ha! And, uhh, neither do you, apparently. You really wanna play this game, old man?" The felon took a few intimidating steps towards the gentleman.

"Look, I just want back what's rightfully mine. I had twenty-thousand dollars worth of jewels in that vault and I'm not leaving here without it. After that, I won't get in your way."

The hostages surrounding the scene mumbled and groaned. If this idiot had just kept his big mouth shut and accepted the fate of their bank accounts, the robbers would've been out of their hair by now! The man was tempting death with every word that tumbled from his lips.

"Oh yeah? And I've been trying to get what's rightfully mine for YEARS. But you know what? They never gave it to me, so I figured it'd be easier to just… take it," he shrugged. "Besides, fat cats like you don't need all that money. Hey, if you're that worried about it, just sell off a couple of your cars. I'm sure you'll be rollin' in the doe again in no time." The robber offered him a chastising smile.

"Now you listen here! I'm Drew Rockwell, the CEO of -"

Before the ol' Drew could finish his introduction, the felon's glock was shoved into his nether regions, point blank, faster than anyone could blink. He froze up and held his breath, the sweat that had been beading on his forehead now given a reason to roll down the clean-shaven face.

"No, YOU listen, gramps. I don't care if you're the goddamn Pope. Do you honestly think you're in a position to be calling the shots here?" He pressed his weapon into the man's junk for emphasis, receiving a terrified shutter in return. "Go ahead. Shoot me with that little toy of yours, but…" the robber allowed his stomach to push up against the pistol his opponent was holding, and cocked his own gun, "… are you really gonna have the balls to do it?"

No one made a sound, although a few hostages had covered their ears ahead of time, chocking up Drew's life to an early grave. Ellis looked on with rapt attention, fully expecting at least one of the weapons to go off any moment, while Nick, on the other hand, licked his dry lips and watched the self-acclaimed CEO's face, waiting for him to cave in like he expected he would.

So far, the gambler's bets had been well placed.

Drew eventually lowered the gun and averted his eyes towards the floor, pride thoroughly thrashed by the criminal before him. The hostages weren't sure what to make of this just yet. Was he still going to be killed for his insolence? Were they going to leave now?

Robber #1 smirked and pulled the pistol from his opponent's clammy hands, stuffing it into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.

"That's what I thought."

He then held up a shiny black wallet which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The business man saw it and frantically rifled through his pant pockets for his own, which happened to be in the crafty hands of his captor. He'd been robbed blind.

"Shit, is this your shopping money or something?" He opened the leather pouch and marveled at all the crisp one-hundred dollar bills neatly placed inside. With a thoughtful nod, he stashed the wallet and patted Drew's arm. "Nice doing business with you."

Drew wilted back into a kneeling position, finally resigned to the fact that he wasn't getting his money back anytime soon. No one really felt sympathy for the man since all of _their_ money was being taken as well, although Nick kind of knew how the guy felt. Mr. Rockwell was probably well versed in the art of "stealing" if he was the mighty and powerful CEO he claimed to be. Being stolen from, however, was just fate's way of giving the man a taste of his on medicine, something Nick had to go through many a time in his younger, more vivacious days.

The lead robber leered at all the other hostages practically bowing at their feet, and formed a fun little idea he hadn't tried in any of his prior heists. "How 'bout we give these good people a shake down?"

Ellis was about to ask the conman what that meant, but "Twitchy" spoke up first. "I thought you said we had to blow out of here? The cops're gonna be here any minute now, man."

"And? The ball's in our field, my friend. There's no way they'll challenge us as long as we have the hostages. Just do it."

"Twitchy" gave a hesitant nod before moving toward the closest hostage. He mumbled something that got them to keep as rigid as possible, and proceeded to dig out whatever loot he could find in the customer's pockets. Robber #3 did the same on the other side of the room, taking whatever valuables the hostages had tucked away in their purses and other hidden compartments, even the jewelry around each woman's neck and fingers.

Truthfully, this was kind of a good sign. Mr. Follow-the-Leader was getting a little too confident for his own good, and that's when karma would rear it's ugly head and bite ya in the back. Perhaps things would turn in the favor yet.

The leader stepped up to Nick and grabbed his wrist to examine the watch he had on. "Nice," he said, and brought it into his possession.

"Thanks. Got it as a Christmas gift last year," the conman said casually.

The robber immediately strapped it around his own wrist and admired the look of it. "Hm. Suits me a bit better, don't ya think?" Nick responded with a sarcastic smile.

The felon then moved on to Ellis. "And what 'bout you, Clyde?" he asked in a mocking hick accent. "Yew got somethin' fer me, too?"

If the mechanic's hands weren't behind his head, he'd have given the guy a double birdie, or socked him right in the jaw at best. Instead, he glowered at the criminal with all the malice his pretty blue eyes could muster.

"Oooh~ sorry I asked! Well, if you'll excuse me…" The man began patting down Ellis in an attempt to find cash or other commodities on his person.

Nick kept an eye on the whole situation and furrowed his brow when he saw the robber's hands getting too close for comfort near Ellis' crotch. "Watch the hands, pal," he ground out.

"Pfft…" the criminal held back a laugh. "Sorry. Forgot this was your _man_." He crudely clamped his palm over the southerner's junk, making Ellis jerk forward a bit with a grunt of discomfort. Nick had a right mind to knock the guy's block off, but figured it wouldn't go over too well in the end.

With that, robber #1 left to search and seizure elsewhere since the kid didn't have anything on him except a guitar pick and some pocket lint. Ellis' eyes bore holes into the man's back as he went, feeling more violated than that time an old lady at the diner he frequented pinched his butt while standing in line to pay. Nick had thought it was funny, but he wasn't the one who was assaulted, after all.

"You okay?" Even Nick thought it was a stupid question, but he wanted to make sure the guy hadn't damaged the goods in any way.

Ellis was still giving their captor the stink eye when he answered. "I will be once I kick his ass all the way to China n' back."

Despite the circumstances, Nick couldn't help but chuckle at his partner's statement.

A distressed yelp alerted everyone to some sort of struggle going on between "Twitchy" and the same woman who was fervently praying earlier. He had a grasp on her jade rosary beads, but she wasn't willing to part with them in the slightest, screaming and crying for the thief to let them go. It was as if she was losing part of her sanity, but no one would dare intervene. A lot of the hostages were growing restless as their plight went on, afraid that another life would soon be extinguished right before their eyes.

The shrieks were becoming too much for Ellis and, without warning, he whirled around and shouted at the smaller man, lifting one knee so that his left foot was flush against the floor. "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

"Twitchy" whipped his head towards the interruption and let out an irritated snarl. He closed the distance between he and the mechanic and shouted back, "Jesus FUCKING Christ, I am sick and tired of you queers!" The robber lifted his leg and shoved Ellis to the ground with the sole of his shoe, sending the boy tumbling flat on his back with an "oof!"

There was no time to recover once his assailant aimed the gun at his chest, but Nick was moving before the felon had a chance to clasp his other hand onto the glock's handle. The gambler charged him right in his middle and took the smaller man down with ease. His hand shot for the weapon his opponent was holding, but could only manage to get a grasp on his wrist instead. As strong a the robber's hold on his gun was, Nick's own iron grip kept the weapon from pointing anywhere below eye level, trying to keep the hostages and himself out of harms way. They rolled and jerked against each other, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand before the other one did. Nick finally wormed his fingers around part of the weapon and had almost wrenched it away from "Twitchy" when a loud pop assaulted everyone's ears, causing most of the hostages to cower. The sound came from robber #1's pistol that was currently aimed towards the ceiling. Attempting to shoot Nick came with the risk of accidentally hitting his fellow team mate, so he fired off a shot above to get their full, undivided attention.

"Alright. Clearly, some of you are more trouble than you're worth." He said in a surprisingly nonchalant manner, as if he'd dealt with tough crowds before. His cold eyes drifted towards Nick, obviously the thorn in his side he was referring to. "All we wanted to do was come in, grab some cash, and leave without any problems, much like the rest of you all," he shrugged. "But, it looks like we're not welcome here, so I guess we could just start headin' out. Ready, boys?"

The youngest robber glanced warily between his boss and their other cohort who had shoved Nick off of him after the warning shot, but not before yanking away the gun and glaring daggers at his opponent. The conman leered back just as brutally, all but used to having stare downs with his numerous past enemies. "Twitchy" here was a far cry from any of the ring leader lunatics Nick had to deal with way back when, so keeping an impassive disposition wasn't hard to do. This wasn't to say the man was without fear, although most of his concerns were towards everything but himself (that wouldn't have been the case back when it was all about looking for number one, of course.) In fact, the gambler would often recall a quote he'd read some years ago, before Ellis and before the zombies.

_"Courage is looking fear right in the eye and saying, "Get the hell out of my way, I've got things to do."_

The phrase stuck with Nick throughout his trials and tribulations, figuring that it suited his style more than any of those dumbass motivational posters he'd seen hung up in every office building he'd been to. Too bad he couldn't remember where the saying came from…

Ellis made his way over to Nick's side just as the robbers were beginning to leave, intent on scolding his lover for doing something so stupid that was likely to have gotten him killed.

He didn't even get a chance to touch him before robber #1 directed his pistol at the northerner and pulled the trigger.

_To be continued..._


	3. Part 3

**AN: **** A short, three part fic about a trip to the bank w/ Nick and Ellis… oh, and there's some douche bags who try to rob the place, or whatever. :T**

**Rating: M - for hardcore smut in the epilogue (part 4). You've been warned!**

The bullet hit right above Nick's breast and sailed clean through his left shoulder into the marble flooring behind him. With a pained grunt, Nick fell back, clutching the wound with his opposite hand and applying pressure to where the pill-sized pellet had entered.

Ellis let out something between a gasp and a bloodcurdling yell as soon as he heard the gun go off, and scrambled to Nick's side, fueled by a burst of white hot trepidation. It felt as if he were experiencing heart palpitations with how suddenly his rib cage started hammering against his chest, as if fighting to keep the monstrous wave of fear from roaring out like a broken dam. For a split second, Ellis thought he himself might've been hit by the bullet.

"Nick!" He placed one hand on the unscathed part of the older man's shoulder, as the other hand hovered helplessly over the wound. "Nick? No no no no no please…"

His immediate reaction when crouching next to his fallen lover was to fix him up, to do something, anything, as long as it helped him get better. But this wasn't the apocalypse anymore, and there was no handy dandy med-kit strapped to his back that could aid his injured comrade.

"Hurghh…" Nick wheezed out, the muscles in his neck and face taut from trying to overpower the painful sensation that erupted with each timely pulse in his body. He could feel blood oozing out with every heartbeat, seeping through his already sticky fingers and making a blotchy patch of discolored red on his moss green button-up shirt, the one that Ellis thought brought out his eyes so much.

A low whimper escaped the boy's mouth, and he stifled it by pressing his lips together stubbornly.

No. This wasn't right. It didn't end here. Not like this. All they did was go to the bank, like any other day of their normal, blissful life together. There was no way they could survive a FUCKING zombie infestation, and have something like THIS be their downfall. It was ludicrous! It wasn't fair!

A dark eclipse fell over Ellis' person as he turned his eyes towards the one responsible. His nostrils flared with fury, and he was just about to catapult from his position on the floor and launch himself at the one who so wronged them when he felt someone's hand upon his arm, bringing him down from his premature bluster of rage.

"Stop. Don't…" Nick's voice was firm, but hoarse. He had tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but unwittingly used the one where the bullet passed through, causing him to recoil with a moan. Ellis stared at his lover with bated breath, not wanting to miss a word the man had to say. His eyes momentarily trailed down to the gambler's wound and he mentally cursed at the decent amount of blood that had settled into the fibers of his shirt. Was it enough to kill a man? When would it stop? His mind was bombarded with all these questions of which he was too hysterical to answer himself.

"Nick, are you… you…" He couldn't ask something like that. It would sound so stupid considering what was going on.

"Shit, kid, you think I haven't bitten a bullet before?" he gave him a small smirk, not even attempting to laugh in case more blood decided to pool it's way out.

"Don't you say somethin' like that, Nick." The southerner shook his head. He vaguely realized how he was matching his own breath in time with his partner's, as if he could keep him alive just by doing so.

"Sorry… bad joke," he muttered and took a look at his own injury. "Eh. I've had worse. This ain't gonna kill me."

The words were reassuring to a fault, but the sight of blood kept Ellis on edge regardless. Nonetheless, he kept up a strong front. "Fuck, Nick, don't I know it, especially after that one Tank attack… remember? The one that nearly turned ya into roadside flapjacks?" He lightly skated his fingertips over the hand that was clamped against Nick's chest, still shaking from the torrent of emotions he was feeling all at once.

"Yup, I remember. That mother fucker was considerably worse than these guys, hands down."

Ellis laughed softly, but the resurfacing of past events was starting to make him uncomfortable. There was a certain finality to mentally reliving these moments that reminded the younger man of those scenes in movies where a character's life would flash before their eyes. The harrowing thought was whisked away once he focused on the gambler's comforting smile, even if it was a bit forced.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Mr. Hero," the gunman chimed in after he saw that the hostage was still alive. "Just because you can act like a badass, doesn't mean ya should. You're just gonna embarrass yourself, man."

The throbbing pain in Nick's shoulder led him to feel even more irritated at that smug, matter-of-fact voice than it had before. The conman had finally gotten his good elbow underneath him and hoisted his upper body into a semi-sitting position, legs still sprawled out in front of him with one pulled slightly inward to balance his weight. He glared at the felon, brow heavily set over his eyes in a final statement of "fuck you" as he strained to keep his heart from racing due to the effort of moving.

The robber frowned, mildly annoyed that the bastard hadn't even broken out into a cold sweat from his threats, but it was best not to waste time on one little hostage. "Okay, le-"

The blare of a siren from outside the building bounced against the bank's glass panel windows. All heads turned to see what they were expecting to be there, and, indeed, an entire platoon of police cars came rolling up to a stop in front of the facility in practiced formation. Their red and blue lights flashed brightly even in the day time, a suspenseful placeholder before cops poured out of their respective vehicles by the dozen. None of them approached the bank directly, but weapons had already been drawn from their standard issue holsters and kept at the ready for what awaited them inside. Whatever instructions were being relayed throughout the squadrons were muffled and obscured by the glass separating the outside from the inside. However, a plan was definitely forming.

"Shit…" the lead robber hissed. His ultimate goal today was to get in, get out, and avoid confrontation with the cops, and so far the world seemed to be spitting at his heels wherever he stepped. "Connor, check the back. They might not've had a chance to swarm there yet."

The youngest criminal dashed to the rear of the bank and through a door that would eventually travel towards an emergency exit, exactly where they would've escaped hadn't they been plagued with minor distractions.

Nick was the only one who seemed to catch the use of a name; Connor. It was a slip-up, and one that could cost them dearly if anyone had been paying closer attention. There wasn't much the boys in blue could do with a first name, though. The elimination of their masks would help, but hell if anyone was ballsy enough to try yanking one off when they were liable to get a bullet in the brain for it.

As the other two felons started murmuring to each other, no doubt about how they were going to get away scott-free, Ellis turned towards Nick once more and kept a steady hand at the older man's back, aiding in keeping him upright. "Thank God. The policer's here, Nick. We're gonna be okay! We'll get'chu to the nearest hospital as soon as we get outta here." A glimmer of hope sparked within the mechanic's glassy eyes.

Nick almost felt bad for having to shoot down that spark as soon as it'd appeared. "It's not over yet, sport. Things are only gonna get worse from here on out."

"Huh? What'dya mean?"

The conman shifted to release some of the pressure being put on his propped elbow. "Now that the cops are on the scene, these goons can finally make good use of their hostages, whereas before they haven't had a paying audience to watch their little performances."

Ellis' lips went tight. He hadn't thought of it that way. What if they ended up staying and demanding more money? Sure, there were twice the amount of weapons in the vicinity than there was a few minutes ago, and a majority of them were wielded by their saviors… but was that really a good thing? Would it turn the tables in their favor any more so than before? Judging by the fact that his partner hadn't let his guard down just yet, the answer was probably a big, fat "NO".

Connor came back around the corner, slightly out of breath from his short jog, and called out across the room to his leader, "It's no good. They've already got some guys surrounding the building."

"Of-fucking-course," robber #1 sneered. "Fine. Guess we'll have to entertain our guests a bit before hitting the road." His eyes narrowed at the scurrying figures of uniformed men and women outside. He wouldn't let this one little set-back save a seat for him in the slammer. Not today, at least. With a nod of his head, he got "Twitchy's" attention. "Get Mr. Hero to the window and show'em we mean business. Shoot him if ya have to; I wanna get my fucking point across one way or another."

"Yeah." A subtle grin slithered onto the smaller criminal's lips as he stalked towards Nick.

The gambler was easy pickings seeing as he had the most extensive injuries out of anybody in the room, so it was presumed that he wouldn't put up too much of a good fight while being dragged, essentially, towards his death. There was no way they were going to show the older man any mercy after the trouble he'd caused for them.

"I've been wanting to do this." The gunman growled as he grabbed the collar of Nick's shirt and proceeded to pull him across the floor. They didn't get more than a few inches before Ellis sprung into action.

"Let go of him, you fucker!" He latched onto the criminal's arm and pried him away for a fleeting moment, enough so to deliver one firm sock to the stomach. His opponent doubled over from the initial blow, but retaliated with his own aimless punch to Ellis' temple. This didn't stop the boy, however, and he shook the dizziness off to go in for another messy brawl.

"Tch. Jesus…" The head honcho foresaw this before he even issued the order, and let out an exasperated sigh as he raised his gun to rid them of the other nuisance in the room. It wasn't until he felt something clamp onto him from behind that he started to lose his cool. Of all people, the catholic woman from before had jumped him, with one arm wrapped around his neck, and the other threatening to pull off his black ski mask.

"Repent, and you shall be forgiven, sinners! God is merciful!" She proclaimed her declarations through gritted teeth while struggling to maintain the hold she had on the felon. No one could tell by her appearance alone that this woman had been diagnosed with an acute case of bipolar disorder not but a few weeks ago, which explained her sudden mood swing and the rash way she was behaving. Truthfully, everyone just thought she was a bit insane either way.

"Fuck!" The leader was unable to get a good handle on his attacker and simply thrashed around in hopes that he could knock her off.

In all of the chaos, a few hostages were bold enough to start moving, some behind the counter, and others heading straight for the exit. Connor saw this and planned to take control of the situation, but a few older men who were a bit more brawny than the kid got in his way and stared him down with hardened scowls.

"I don't think so, Jr." said one man with a slightly receding hairline and tattoos creeping up his arms towards the leather vest he wore. The tone of his voice was gruff and intimidating, and it was apparent that he felt no fear of the pistol pointed at his chest. The young criminal faltered, eyes darting back and forth between him and his buddies. All it would take was a simple chin check and the boy would be out cold indubitably. So, with no trouble at all, the tattooed man, along with his group of hell's angels, swiped the gun out of their former captor's hands and kept him backed up against a wall. His curtains had closed.

Robber #1 was the first to resume power over his victims as soon as he saw some hostages creeping towards the doors. With one last shove, the catholic woman was thrown off and slammed into the floor, too stunned to continue her attack. The felon shot at the doors and ended up hitting the metal framing surrounding them, the bullet ricocheting once and embedding itself into a wall. The fleeing hostages fell back to the ground and covered their heads, not wanting to push their luck any further.

Ellis had just about taken the upper hand when he ripped the ski mask from his captor's head, revealing a tan-skinned face with a hint of black stubble peppering his upper lip and jawline, but this provoked "Twitchy" to wrestle him onto his back in a violent tantrum, attempting to direct the glock at his opponent's face. The southerner's body shook with the exertion of keeping that gun pointed away from him, but the pint-size Hispanic had more strength than he gave him credit for. Ellis let out a strained breath and sucked in new air almost immediately after, holding it in so he could use that pressure to fight back. The criminal's forearm suddenly dug into the mechanic's neck in an attempt to loosen the enemy grip on his weapon. The muscles in Ellis' neck stiffened to keep himself from choking, but it wasn't doing much good when he realized how hard it was to concentrate on breathing and moving the pistol in another direction.

In that instant, it hit him that this may be his last day on earth; that after something as formidable as the zombie apocalypse, his life would end between the final discharge of a breath and a bullet. Even so, with the eye of that gun slowly craning towards his forehead for the kill, Ellis' thoughts were perpetually on Nick and whether he'd be alright after this. He would never really know, would he?

Before Ellis could finish the silent prayer he was reciting to himself, a shot rang out once more, and the shock of it seemed to jar the everliving soul out from under his skin. The same surprise was plastered onto "Twitchy's" face as well, since he had not yet pulled the trigger on his weapon. There was a bit of discomfort laced into those features, and he let out a strange groan that sounded as if the man were slightly constipated. The felon's grip had loosened a bit, which gave Ellis the chance to topple him over and put some distance between the two of them. He couldn't help but gasp, though, when he saw the bullet hole that had pegged "Twitchy" right between the shoulder blades. Thankfully, the bullet had not gone clean through him, otherwise Ellis would've been put out of commission, too. But where had it come from? Whose shot was it? Ellis heard a defiant "humph" from the far wall where the security guard had been killed, just in time to notice his savior, along with his other tattooed pals, lowering the glock he'd taken from the youngest robber. The big, burly biker's eyes were wide and alert, but the cocky smirk on his face betrayed any lingering hesitancy in the act he had just committed.

"I've been wanting to do that." His friends chuckled in agreement, as if it were a simple game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

Ellis wanted to form some kind of thank you for the help, but his mind was still constantly revolving around Nick. The southerner turned on his knees to see how his lover was fairing, but met the barrel of another gun instead. How many more times was this going to happen?

"Fuck this!" the leader snapped. "Everything would've been fine if it weren't for you fuckers! Today was supposed to be easy; a routine! Why the hell did I have to get stuck with a couple of bastards like you?" He squeezed the trigger…

Ellis held his breath and waited for the impact.

...

"I could ask you the same thing, buddy."

All of a sudden, the masked criminal let out a sharp wail, his mouth and eyes contorted into an expression that resembled some of the infected who came barreling towards you as they screamed. He crumpled to the ground, hands cupped over his now wounded knee, which began to bleed profusely from whatever had been done to it in the past few seconds. Ellis' right ear was ringing due to a gun shot that had gone off as close range, and he turned his head to see where it had originated.

Nick was holding a small handgun and had it pointed at the robber's leg where the bullet lodged itself. However, he didn't have a weapon when he came in, nor did he make a habit of carrying one around with him wherever he went. And yet, it looked different from the ones the robbers' owned…

That's when Ellis noticed that it was the same pistol that CEO fellow was wielding earlier in his attempted threat.

Somehow, through the course of robber #1's monologue, Nick had reached up and swiped the weapon from their opponent's front sweatshirt pocket where it had been stashed after it's confiscation. With it, he took out the criminal's knee cap, making it virtually impossible for the man to walk, let alone crawl, and leaving all three robbers officially incapacitated.

Nick laughed darkly and gave his elbow some relief by resting on his good arm instead. "How do YOU like it…" he asked the groaning man, pausing between a few of his words to catch his breath. "… When all your plans for the day are thoroughly fucked up the ass by some random douche bag…" he allows himself a tiny smirk "… who just doesn't know when to quit?"

The criminal didn't even have the sense to answer at this point, still crying out in pain at his busted knee cap. No doubt there was some permanent damage in one way or another.

The bank was silent for a beat or two, customers nearly incredulous at what had just occurred before their very eyes. It didn't last long, though, for as soon as one customer made a break for the exit, so did the entire crowd. A lot of the olden men, the women, and their children were out first, breathing sighs of relief and joy once they were free of their marble imprisonment. A few customers hung back, mostly some younger folk (and Drew) who were interested in becoming better acquainted the bags of money their captors had previously commandeered. They didn't get far once the police finally made their entrance, making sure the criminals were appropriately apprehended, and that no one was thinking of looting the backpacks of cash.

"Twitchy", who was now a lifeless rag doll, was identified as one of the criminals and put into a body bag for transport, as well as the deceased security guard. Connor was arrested without any trouble, and wasn't expected to do too much jail time since the only offense he'd ever committed in his life was theft. It would soon be learned that the boy was a runaway, rebelling against his family in the most dramatic way possible as opposed to your average teenager. Perhaps now he would rethink his current lifestyle through a few months of hard labor in community service.

The catholic woman who had pretty much saved Ellis' life was escorted out by one of the officers, a faint limp in her walk from when the lead robber had pushed her to the ground, but it looked like she was going to pull through just fine. Across the way, the leather-vested man identified as "Francis" was being questioned for details on what happened here and how many casualties were his doing. It was a completely reasonable inquiry seeing as the police had thought he and his friends were the criminals upon first sight. The guy had never put down his gun, after all. He seemed rather offended at first, accusing them of judging him by his appearance and that he hated the cops anyway, but after some coaxing from his nervous band of biker pals, Francis cooperated as he should've, although begrudgingly. As for Drew, he was desperately trying to explain to the officials how much money he had in the bank and that he would like to take his portion from the bags and go without any trouble. Unfortunately for him, it'd take a while for this whole mess to get cleared up, and absolutely no one was getting "their" money back until everything had been righted as it once was. It'd take about two days to do this, and even that didn't seem good enough for Mr. CEO.

Amongst all the hustle and bustle, the scuffing of the officers' shiny black shoes upon the off-white marble flooring, the inspection of evidence that no one really needed for a conviction, the witnesses stories, the low murmur of work being done… Ellis and Nick were finally able to relax to some extent, both meeting each other's eyes in a tired daze.

"With the way things turned out…" Nick winced from a particularly sharp throb in his injured shoulder "… you'd think I should've gone into law enforcement, eh?"

Ellis laughed, weakly. "If yer in a state to be jokin' with me like this, then I don't think I even need to ask if yer awright."

"No, that should be my question. You're looking worse than I am, kid." He grinned, reaching up to weave those golden brown curls between his fingers (the autoshop hat having been knocked off during the fight earlier.) "We're alright, El. You don't have to worry about me."

"The hell I can't! I'll worry as much as I goddamn well please, mister." He rested his hand on the conman's, which was still covering his bullet wound like it should have been. The mechanic didn't know what else to say at the time, so he just went with what was playing on constant repeat in his head throughout the entire ordeal. "Shit, Nick… I can't believe this happened."

"Maybe you can't. I've been in one too many fucked up situations like this, El… well, not exactly like this, but I'm pretty sure I've already had a bullet here at some point." He looked to the wound above his left breast. The bleeding had slowed, but the gambler had still lost quite a bit. Another spike of pain hit him as he tried to move. He breathed in sharply through his teeth. "Hurt back then, too."

Ellis laid a hand on his lover to keep him from squirming. "Stay put, Nick. They're bringin' a stretcher in here for ya a.s.a.p. Yer gonna get fixed up at the hospital, and I'm gonna be there with ya."

"Good. As long as there hasn't been a string of bank robberies today, then I think the wait time there won't be half as bad as the one here," he joked, which was a positive sign for someone who'd been shot so close to the heart.

"Seriously, Nick, we need to get yer priorities straightened out," Ellis smiled, the warmth returning to his fingers and toes once he realized that everything was going to be okay in the end. He took advantage of this moment, while the cops n' robbers crowd was reveling in their own world of troubles, and leaned down to press his lips against the older man's sweaty forehead. Nick closed his eyes and melted against that mouth, inwardly wishing that they were at home, surrounded by the familiarity of their own bedroom, with Ellis' romantic gesture as a precursor for what sensualities were to erupt between the two willing partners. As it were, such fantasies would have to be put on hold for now.

Although, Nick was mildly surprised when he felt those lips pass over his nose and land on his own mouth in a quietly urgent kiss. He returned it the only way he could in his position, by placing his hand behind the southerner's neck and keeping him there until they had both been given enough reassurance that they were alive and together.

During the time waiting for the paramedics to ready their gurney and roll it in, the two lovers filled in the seconds whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears, Nick's head having found refuge from the hard floor in Ellis' lap. It was a public display of affection that Nick usually wouldn't want others to see, but fuck if they cared after what they'd been through.

The phrase "I love you" must've been uttered at least a dozen times already, although who said it the most would remain a mystery.

And, after all of this, you could be sure those three little words would see the light of day more than ever before.

_To be continued...?_


	4. Epilogue

**AN: A short, three part fic about a trip to the bank w/ Nick and Ellis… oh, and there's some douche bags who try to rob the place, or whatever. :T**

**Rating: M - for hardcore smut in THIS CHAPTER. You've been warned!**

Nick's shoulder healed up relatively fast since the bullet had gone straight out the other end, leaving a clean tunnel of torn muscle that the doctor had tended to with nothing but some disinfectants and a bit of stitching. He was given some painkillers to help ease the process of getting better, but Nick rarely ever took them. He'd had enough pain pills to put down a bull elephant during the whole zombie jamboree of 2009, and the wound wasn't nearly as bad as getting mobbed by a horde anyhow.

Ellis checked his lover's injury often to make sure it stayed free of bad bacteria, reapplying the bandage after every shower as they were told to do by their surgeon. It'd been two weeks since their adventure at the bank, and, truthfully, it was almost as if it never happened. Sure, Nick would have a new scar added to his plethora of other "insignias", as he liked to call them, but soon it would fade into his skin like the rest - hell, a few years from now, the guy probably wouldn't even remember when and where he got it.

The gambler had one last checkup at the hospital today to make sure he didn't have any lingering problems with his muscle movements, and to see if anything had been improperly mended. Both partners were pleased to hear that his shoulder would be A-OK as long as he didn't put too much strain on it for the next month or two, just as a precaution. Once administered his sparkling bill of health, Nick marched out of the hospital with Ellis in tow, relieved that he wouldn't have to be coming back here anytime soon.

"_Finally_, we can put all this shit behind us. I swear, the doc was more worried about this little hole in my shoulder than I was. It's not like I haven't been shot at before."

Ellis shook his head knowingly and caught up to walk along side the older man. "Yeah, but you weren't just shot_ at_, you were actually _shot_. And I think he _knows_ yew Nick, which is why he was frettin' over ya s'much. I figure Dr. Halls acts like that with all his patients who don't worry enough 'bout themselves." His tone took on a more serious note at this time. "Besides, yew can't brush these things off so lightly, Nick. 'Member how much yew was bleedin' back then? It done near gave me a heart attack." He got the chills just thinking about it...

Nick's chest stained with an unsettling crimson color, his pained groans, the sound of the criminal's gun going off… In the end, they couldn't get the blood to come out of his nice green button-up shirt, so it was thrown away without a second thought.

"Oh man, you should've seen your face back then," Nick chuckled. "The phrase, 'white as a sheet', is no longer just an imagery in those horror stories I read as a kid."

"Well, to be honest, I felt like_I_ was the one losin' all that blood. Don't think I've had that much of a scare since… shit, probably since that Witch nearly took my arm off when we was going through them swamps."

"Oh, yeah. I remember that. Those two Jockeys and a Spitter didn't really make it any easier for us either."

It was funny how casually the two could bring up such gruesome memories without hesitation. There were many other survivors who wouldn't even so much as mention the term "zombie" or "infection" after being traumatized from whatever life-changing trials they had to go through. Nick and Ellis made sure not to involve the sensitive subject in their public conversations out of respect for those who didn't come out of the apocalypse as lucky as they did.

Once they reached Ellis' old Ford, the mechanic let out a troubled sigh and paused at the driver's side of his truck, his hand resting on the handle with no immediate intention of pulling just yet. Nick waited on the other end for his lover to get in and unlock his side of the truck (it was an old-fashioned girl, and she didn't have the fancy automated locks that the conman's Mercedes' had.) When he peeked his head around the windshield to see what the hold up was, Ellis' glum face was the first thing that came into view. This wasn't the first time he'd seen that expression since their trip to the bank, and Nick was hoping he wouldn't have to see it too often since they'd just gone to his final checkup with the doc. Maybe now this could all be swept under the rug for good.

Ellis saw a tall shadow creep over his arm and looked up to see Nick's reflection in the car window. He held the gambler's gaze in that dimension for a moment until one of them spoke.

"Look, Ellis… Worse things have happened to us. You know that just as well as I do." He laid a hand on the side view mirror and broke eye contact with Ellis' reflection to make sure no one was nearby. "I know the whole thing at the bank shook you up a bit… Hell, it shook me up, too. But I don't get why you're still so bothered by it. I'm fine, you're fine, we're all fine. So what's the matter?"

The younger man waited a few seconds to compose what he was about to try and explain to his lover, pressing his lips together in determination. His eyes met Nick's, and he forced his mouth to open to keep himself from stalling any further. "We've been through a lot, Nick. A helluva lot. But… of all the times we were in danger - when that Jockey almost rode you off a building, or when that Smoker almost pulled me into the river - I ain't never been as scared as I was when them guys were robbin' the bank."

"You serious?" Nick quirked one eyebrow and let out a one syllable laugh. "Why? I'd take those goons over a Tank any day."

Ellis shook his head adamantly, trying to keep himself from choking up. "They were like us, Nick; _human_. And, I don't know about'chu… but I'm more afraid of them than I am of any mindless zombies."

The southerner could tell from the look on his partner's face that the thought had never crossed his mind before now.

"I can kill as many Hunters, or Chargers, or goddamn Witch's as I want, and I ain't gonna worry 'bout when, where, or how the good Lord calls my name. Fuck, I _knew_ we'd make it through! Call it a hunch, or whatever, but there was not a doubt in my mind that we were gonna survive this shit, even if it was by the skin of our teeth, man." His brief exuberance quickly deflated when he got back to the issue at hand. "But this… that…" he gestured to Nick's shoulder, "… I didn't know, Nick. I honestly could not have told yew if we were gonna make it outta there alive. I mean, maybe at first I thought we'd be okay since they were plannin' on leavin' n' stuff… but then you got shot, and I just… I don't know…" Ellis lowered his head a bit to mask his emotion. He didn't hide his feelings from Nick that often, but for some reason he felt all too vulnerable right now, as if he'd break down once spoken to. No way in _hell_ that was happening, though. Despite being in a loving three year relationship together, the Georgian still cared about what his lover thought of him, and he didn't want to come off as some yellow-bellied, lip-quivering pansy if he could help it.

Nick took note of the boy's fragile state, and he started off his response by initiating some physical contact first so that his words wouldn't be the life line Ellis tried clinging to the most. He reached out and rubbed the younger man's arm with his palm, giving him a small squeeze before responding.

"Hey." He grabbed the mechanic's gaze once more with that one insistent word. "You're right about the whole human thing, I'll give you that. I'm well aware of how people can be the biggest bastards you ever meet in this lifetime. Believe me, I mingled with guys like them way back when, and… come to think of it, I don't think I enjoyed a single second of it."

Ellis smiled. "I'm glad about that."

"But that's because I didn't know what I _could've_ had," Nick continued. "I spent so much time brooding over what a shit hole my life was and turning my back on the world that I didn't leave room for a chance to make things right." The northerner brought his other hand up to mimic the one on Ellis' opposite arm. "I didn't know what was going to happen in there either, Ellis… but dammit if I was going to let those guys take the reigns from me, not after I'd finally gotten a hold on my own life." He looked around the parking lot once more and leaned in to whisper to his lover. "And I might've been trying to show off for ya a bit."

Ellis' smile came back full force with that comical break in tension. "Yew would, wouldn't yew?" He jabbed Nick in the chest with his finger. "You've always liked to fly yer own kite, even durin' the apocalypse. I guess that's what people call 'swag' nowadays, huh?"

Nick smiled back when the mechanic wrapped his arms around the older man's waist. "El, the fact that you just used that word made my fucking day."

They laughed and embraced, but not before Nick scanned their surroundings to assure himself of their solitude at the present time. It wasn't that he was afraid someone would see two men hugging it out in broad daylight, he just preferred this tender moment between he and his beau be a private one.

Nick stayed that way for as long as Ellis wanted him to. Eventually, the southerner fell back into the driver side door, the sun's warmth having been absorbed into the metal for the amount of time it was sitting outside and causing a pleasant heating sensation to spread across the boy's broad back. His partner was forced to lean into him, trying not to touch the truck with his fingers since they didn't have any protection from the hot window glass.

It was very amorous, almost uncharacteristically so for the conman. Nick had grown immune to his lover's tactics in getting him to be more affectionate like this, especially in a place where anybody could see them. Unless those "tactics" involved a trip to the bedroom, there wasn't a bribe out there that could get the man to do exactly was Ellis wanted in terms of being romantic. This time was an exception, of course.

An entirely different warming sensation began to pool in the Georgian's stomach, one that often made him weak in the knees and cloudy-headed with salacity. He wondered if Nick was starting to feel the same way?

"Well, fer what it's worth, yew were purdy cool when yew stood up to those robbers, Nick."

The gambler smirked at the playful tone in his lover's praise and shifted to move his mouth closer to Ellis' neck. "Oh really? Did I look like one of the super heros in those comic books you're always reading?"

"Yeah. Heck, if it weren't fer the fact that we were in danger 'n all, I'da found the whole thing kinda… hot." By now, Ellis wasn't being at all subtle in his seduction.

"Well, well! I didn't know you were into the cops n' robbers scene."

"Oh, yeah. Used to watch shows like that all the time when I was a kid. I was always rootin' fer the good guys, a'course. A lot of them were pretty good lookin', too." One of the mechanic's hands slithered towards Nick's front and traveled the expanse of his chest, nearly dipping into the slightly unbuttoned dress shirt. "Havin' the real thing in front of me… it's a damn turn on."

Nick felt the pit of his own stomach come alive due to his partner's sultry words and the hand that was constantly teasing his pectorals, with the other firmly grasping at the waist of his shirt. He pulled his head back a bit to level his lips with the side of the southerner's face, knowing how much talking directly into his ear made the poor boy squirm. "News flash, El: you're still a kid," he teased.

Almost as if he expected an answer like that, Ellis grinned and made it so that their noses were barely touching, eyes boring into each other's without reluctancy. "I don' think a kid could get ya this worked up, Mr. Petros."

"Oh? Who's the one getting worked up, now, Mr. Rogers?"

Nick studied his partner's face, full of desire and longing, unlike the frown he was wearing before their talk. He hoped he could see this expression every day for the rest of their time together, or at least when the mood was right. The gambler wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, preparing for the inevitable contact that was about to happen, but Ellis denied him of the kiss when he pulled away, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a cocky smirk.

"I think the hero deserves a happy ending of his own, wouldn't yew agree?"

Nick hadn't even noticed that his shirt was open by two more buttons, his gaze currently transfixed towards the sex-on-legs before him. "Oh, I'm all for that… but don't those stories usually end with the hero getting the _girl_ and riding off into the sunset?"

"Hmm, yeah, I suppose so," Ellis rubbed his chin and nodded thoughtfully. His blue eyes, swimming with a sudden surge of lust, locked back onto lover's after the brief contemplation, and he concluded his answer in a low, provocative voice… "I bet none of them girls could ever suck the chrome off a tail pipe like I can, though."

Nick's resolve was tossed out the window.

**n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e n e **

By the time they got back to the house, Ellis had already discarded Nick's coat before the man could even object to throwing it on the floor. They reached the bedroom just as Ellis coyly pushed the gambler's good shoulder with his three middle fingers, causing Nick to tumble back on the mattress with a bounce.

He laughed and laid his hands flat on either side of himself. "A bit eager, aren't we, sport?"

"It ain't obvious?" Ellis whipped the older man's belt from it's belt loops and wasted no time in unleashing what lie beneath the zipper of his partner's khaki pants. He reached in to tug the semi-hard member from Nick's boxers, pleased at how much his erection had already tightened the normally lax skin stretched around it. The southerner gave a few teasing strokes to get the length warmed up for his mouth, which would do the job either way; he just liked to see Nick slowly slip into heat.

The conman groaned quietly and tilted his head towards the ceiling, allowing his neck to collapse into his shoulders. He smiled and looked at Ellis under hooded eyes. "This is gonna be one hell of a reward, I can tell."

"Fer _both_ of us," Ellis nodded and wrapped the rosy head of Nick's cock between his lips. He always had a hankering to play around with that part first because of it's tantalizing color and how smooth it was compared to the rest of his member. The conman's dick in general had a lovely shape to it - long, slightly bulged in the middle, topped with a perfectly formed head. It never looked overused or worn out in the least, which was amazing considering how much of a playboy he was back in the day. Time had definitely been kind to him.

"Ohh yeah. That's good, El." The gambler spread his legs a bit more to give his lover some room for the task. With an appreciative hum, Ellis scooted closer and nestled himself at the foot of the bed, resting his elbows on the bit of mattress between Nick's legs and using his fingers to gently cradle the now twitching length as he serviced the older man. After messing around with the head for a bit longer, Ellis dragged his tongue up the side of his partner's cock, inwardly smiling when he saw the first sign of precum emerge at the top. He met Nick's eyes, nonchalantly, as if bragging about his skills through that bead of pearly white liquid alone.

The conman shuddered and couldn't stop himself from weaving one hand into the boy's hair, not to steer his movements, but to simply show his approval. Ellis knew this and kept going before either one of them lost their senses completely. The southerner administered soft nips to Nick's length using his lips only, similar to how they made out with the exception of a different tongue technique. The pink muscle would take turns curling around the diameter of the member and flicking at the head every now and then. Nick became more and more relaxed with each gesture, green eyes remaining closed in a look of contentment that you wouldn't see around anyone else but his lover. The only tense part of his body was what Ellis was tending to, and one more suggestive look from that sweet face of his would probably send the older man reeling if he didn't take the initiative soon.

"Alright, El, not that I don't enjoy this, but I'd rather save my best for when I take you." He had to force the curly-topped head away from his groin in order to get him to stop, otherwise the boy would've just kept on going without coming up for a single breath of air. Ellis licked his thick lips of any precum that had stuck to him during the blowjob, and gave his lover that final smoldering stare he'd been anticipating. Not a moment later and the two were intertwined in a passionate embrace, mouths smacking against each other like a couple of overexcited teenagers. Ellis joined Nick on the bed until they were both on their knees, lost in the makeout session that had so suddenly erupted.

An overwhelming tidal wave of emotion slammed Ellis in the chest harder than any Charger had ever done, and he pulled back for a second to get a good look at his partner, who was just as disheveled and breathless as he was. Nick noticed this abrupt change in demeanor and waited to see if the mechanic was going to say or do something.

"I'm so glad yer here."

It took the gambler a while to understand what his partner meant, but he had a pretty solid comprehension once Ellis lightly touched the bandage covering his bullet wound.

"I don't know what I woulda' done without ya if somethin' ever happened…"

A spark flared up in Nick's abdomen, much like the one his lover was feeling at the time, and it doubled in intensity when their eyes met again.

"Same here, kid," he said while tightening his hold on the boy's waist, savoring the feel of their chests rapidly rising and falling in unity.

The arms Ellis had hooked underneath Nick's shoulders moved to encircle the man's neck next, hands grappling at the collared shirt with an almost feral desperation. "Fuck, I love you…" And with that, they were back to snogging as if a second apocalypse was just around the corner, zombies or no zombies.

Nick leaned into their kisses and placed a hand on the southerner's lower back to keep him from falling over, but the impassioned grip Ellis had on his partner made it unlikely for that happen. A few scattered words of praise and adoration were thrown around between breaths, Ellis bringing up a second time how hot he was for Nick when fearlessly facing those bank robbers, and Nick telling the mechanic how hot he was for him every waking moment of the day, which wasn't an uncommon thing to hear during pre-sex activities.

When it finally got to be too much for them, Ellis peeled off his lover's dress shirt and made sure to avoid bumping against the area where his injury was healing. Nick also aided in the intimate event of taking off each other's clothes, letting out a satisfied purr when he was able to admire the Georgian in his full glory. Both sported very impressive erections that were searching to find release, something which the conman was eager to remedy. But, instead of immediately maneuvering the younger man into position, he decided to ask what his smaller partner had in mind.

"How do you want it, El?"

Those few words made Ellis' dick twitch. He loved when Nick gave him a bit of control, whether it pertain to their positioning or the pacing. It was comforting to know that he and his lover could share such aspects in their sexual relationship.

Without verbally responding, Ellis gave the older man a once over with his eyes and turned around, pressing his backside into the gambler's blushing member that gave a jump of it's own when it felt that warm, familiar cushion he had come to adore so much. Ellis molded the rest of his body flush against his companion's front and let one arm bend behind him to clamp onto the back of Nick's neck.

"Is this okay?" As if he even needed to ask.

Nick feared he could barely answer without moaning, but he forced his voice to remain as firm and steady as it'd been throughout the foreplay. "You bet it is."

The temptation to leave a mark on Ellis' neck was something the gambler never repressed, so he licked the spot he had chosen for his deed and proceeded to leave a large purple hickey against the bronzed column of skin. He tasted exceptionally fresh all thanks to the mint-scented body wash the mechanic lathered on himself this morning. It really opened up the airway in your nose when used in the shower, like one of those Listerine tongue strips , which was probably why he liked it so much.

Ellis' complacent sigh hitched in his throat when he felt his lover's hand snake down his back, over his rump, and between his legs. Those talented fingers made quick work of loosening the southerner up for what was about to be put there in place of them. They carefully moved in and out of the warm entrance, coaxing Ellis to relax his weight against Nick, head lulling onto the other's shoulder. Nick took advantage of his partner's rag doll state and left a trail of kisses up and down the side of his face and around those all too sensitive ears.

"Hahhh, Nick…" Ellis gasped, his right arm coming down to latch onto the older man's thigh. The fluttery feeling in his stomach, as well as his own arousal, intensified with each passing second.

Nick jerked his lover off with his free hand at an easygoing pace that drove the Georgian up the wall. The sounds he made had a similar effect on the conman, if it wasn't already evident by the way his dick was insistently pressing against Ellis' lower back. A second trickle of precum oozed down his length, and that was the final straw for Nick.

"Ellis, I gotta…" His sentence was cut off midway by another bout of pleasure rolling through his system.

"It's okay. I'm ready for ya," Ellis said under his breath. He bent over until he was all hands and knees, and reached back to take his partner's stiff member in hand, aiming it in the direction of his now pliant entrance. "Put it in me, Nick."

The arch in Ellis' spine begged to be touched, and the gambler complied readily by running his hands up the broad back in admiration. "Fuck, kid… I think you and I both know this isn't going to be one of our smoother rides."

"S'fine with me," the southerner crooned and stretched so that the head of Nick's cock rubbed up against the cleft above his buttocks. "You can do what ya want, Mr. Hero."

"Damn right, I will," he growled, sinking the entire length of his erection into the boy's plush interior.

And yes, it was _still_ the best piece of ass he'd ever had the privilege to enter.

"Ahhh! Oh God, Nick…" Ellis was a bit surprised at how quickly Nick opened him up, but that wasn't to say it was unpleasant; quite the opposite, actually. The mechanic parted his legs even more, allowing his body to take in the sudden girth that it wasn't so used to accommodating (of course, that had changed a bit during their years together.)

Nick sucked in through his teeth and let out a soundless grunt, one of his hands moving from Ellis' back to the nook in his hip. "Shit, you feel amazing." He always did.

After a few more agonizing seconds of adjusting, Nick started off their rhythm in a slow back and forth motion, as if he were handling the most delicate of instruments. The friction around his cock was heavenly, and Ellis seemed to whine in agreement with the way his own inner walls were being rubbed.

The conman leaned down to hover over his companion's form, executing a few timely thrusts that grazed Ellis' prostate. He received a heaving groan in return that rumbled through the boy and into Nick's own person.

"How's that feel, El? Sliding in and out of you like this… I don't think I'll ever get enough of it."

Ellis' body rocked in time with the older man above him, the blankets scrunching up beneath his curling and uncurling hands. "Shit, Nick… Just don't stop…" His brow furrowed from the sensation of his sweet spot being brushed, but he knew there was a certain amount of restraint in Nick's movements. The man did love getting him riled up, after all.

"I don't plan to," the gambler responded in a gruff tone.

Without warning, he began to piston his hips into the warmth enveloping his dick, causing Ellis to go weak in the arms and keel over until his elbows were flat against the bed spread.

"Aww, GOD. Yeah… jus' like that!"

"Fuck, El…"

Nick placed his hands on either side of the younger man's head and loomed over the boy while delivering his thrusts. The smacking noises of their skin on skin contact was an odd turn on, tempting him to increase the motion of his hips, sending both men to a higher level of pleasure they'd been aching to reach.

"Ohhh, Nick… I ain't gonna last much longer." The northerner didn't need to be told this, as if the clenching around his member wasn't enough of a clue.

"C'mere." In a burst of strength fueled by his growing lust, the conman pulled Ellis back up against his chest, fell back into the headboard, and maneuvered them so that his hands were hooked underneath the boy's knees. He spread Ellis' toned legs and held them there, resuming his rapid-fire pacing he usually saved for the time when they neared orgasm in tandem. Now all they needed was a mirror on the wall in front of them, and Nick was sure the visual stimulation would make him cum in that instant. He never considered himself self-voyeuristic, but hell if the idea of recording one of their nightly romps didn't cross his mind at least once.

Ellis was confused by the sudden change in position at first, but he quickly learned to enjoy it when he felt his partner's cock penetrating deeper than it had before. He moaned the gambler's name and reached back to wrap his arms around Nick's neck once more, which allowed the older man to rest his chin on the southerner's shoulder.

"Oh, oh, oh hohhh my gawd... Feels so- ahh!" At this point, Ellis' prostate was being hit dead on with each jerk of Nick's lower half, and the new position only made it all the more gratifying. He looked down and saw a glimpse every now and then of Nick's cock disappearing and reappearing out of him, but most of the view was blocked by his own rigid erection. As if his mind had been read, the conman draped one of Ellis' legs over his own to keep it in place, and used his now free hand to stroke his partner's member until they reached the finish line.

"Oh yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah!" Ellis started thrusting downward, keening at the intense sensitivity of his inner walls and abused prostate. "Haahhh, Nick… more… please, more!"

"Nngh! Ellis…!"

The rest of their words were nothing but babble, the inevitable orgasms approaching fast and hard. Nick's fingers formed a tight circle and created a titillating pressure from the base all the way to the head of Ellis' organ, which ushered that last push the boy needed to arrive at completion.

"Ahhhh!" he cried out, digging into his lover with the way that his back bowed. Nick, driven by the sound of his lover's climax, rolled his hips a couple more times until he was releasing his seed into the Georgian's supple ass, issuing one more bite into the shoulder he currently had his face smothered in.

The two, unmoving, gasped for the air that had been sucked from their lungs, still basking in the post-orgasm experience. Nick lowered the boy's legs and allowed his full weight to collapse against the wooden headboard. There was no doubt some new markings would adorn the wall behind it.

Ellis waited, a bit amused by how he could feel Nick's length softening within him, gradually. He must've _really_ burned up all his fuel for the night. Then again, the same could be said for the both of them; Ellis' body refused to move during the first few minutes. It was kind of disappointing, though, when he finally felt Nick slide out of his entrance, which started clenching at the void left by the conman's retreating member.

Their positioning hadn't really changed from a few moments ago, with Ellis laying against Nick's front, limbs sprawled out and head propped on the older man's collar bone. They didn't say anything or move to lie down properly; they were simply_ there,_ enjoying each others' proximity, as well as the matched rhythmical breathing they shared. Nick loosely draped his arms around his partner's middle, smiling when he felt the mechanic's own arms intertwine with his. The gambler pressed his nose and mouth into Ellis' hair and sighed, wondering if he should be the one to break the ice or not, but the sunny southerner already opened his mouth.

"S'a good day to be alive."

Nick snorted, but not in a chastising manner. Yeah, it was a pretty unexpected thing coming from his companion, and yet he couldn't find himself disagreeing with the sentiment at all. He couldn't imagine a world without Ellis - to touch him, to see his smile, to poke fun at his grogginess in the mornings - and he figured the same thought had been running laps in the Georgian's head, too, probably more so than his own. It was the first time Nick had a solid understanding of how his partner had been feeling these past couple of weeks… and it hurt. The idea stabbed Nick right in the area below his precariously placed bullet wound, causing the dark hair on his arms and neck to prick up from an unexpected wave of goosebumps. Unconsciously, those limbs curled themselves tighter around the boy's waist, like a child would their stuffed animal during a storm.

Ellis did the same with the grip his hands had on Nick's. He _knew_, without even needing to ask. A link had been formed between them that offered an understanding of what the two survivors had been trying to communicate to each other since the day the barrel of a stranger's gun had been staring them straight in the eye.

And, for the moment, everything was just fine.

"Couldn't have said it better myself, kiddo."

_**The End**_


End file.
